


Jealous of My Imagination

by RikkuShinra



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: 4+1, Anal Sex, Body Part Kinks, Body Worship, Bottom Gladiolus Amicitia, Car Sex, Dominant Ignis Scientia, Gladiolus Amicitia-centric, M/M, POV First Person, Pining, Sex in a Car
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-13 07:38:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19246753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RikkuShinra/pseuds/RikkuShinra
Summary: Four times Gladiolus shares his secret obsession with Ignis.One TIme Ignis has to deal with his obsession.





	1. First Instance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Interstella](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Interstella/gifts).



I’m not too sure when I started watching Ignis in such detail. Sure, I sit in and observe him train, living art in HD internally cheering every moment he picks up a new technique, masters an unfamiliar weapon. It was like I have made these achievements, but I’m just a spectator watching and applauding from the sidelines. It has been a while as I reflect back to those days in our teens, we’re older now but we are still just kids. I fill his sessions by allowing my mind to wander over the path his shirts cling with hard-earned sweat after hours of perfection and sculpting, dancing with polearms and blades and this time a rifle. It’s a boon and a burden how beautiful Ignis Scientia looks with perspiration beading on his brow, slipping over those sharp cheeks to the curve of his chin. It’s misery as his shirt wets darker and darker the billowing cloth eventually joining to stick to his torso in pleats, clinging like a needy lover in Insomnia’s summer heat.

“I don’t like this design. Would you exchange it for me?” He all but thrust the rifle at me, his shoulder jerked, a subdued hint of exhaustion that his body betrayed but his face kept tucked away. Ignis has been working out hard today after a bout of sickness; he’s at the end of a stomach bug that had circulated through Princess’s school like wildfire. Ignis is pale as he greedily accepts the bottle of warm water I offer him. In thanks, those droplets fall, Adam’s Apple bobbing with each deep gulp. Some water escapes the side of his mouth in urgency and adds to the spreading wetness. I can’t help but stare- as an attentive friend. As he hands the empty bottle back, he smiles tugging the collar of his shirt away from his neck. Thank the Astrals for height, I wasn’t looking at Iggy’s face to obsessed with peering at the newly forming pecs his shirt clings to. The deepening valley between firming mounds, and despite his ministrations, the shirt falls back to its grasp.

It had been time to stop that day, even after I had retrieved a different rifle. If I can still recall distinctly how Ignis’ shirt clung when he shifted—we should have ended then. Ignis wanted to push his limits, and I was more than amenable to correct his form.

“You feelin’ alright?” Ignis nods, lifting the rifle to his shoulder he will say he’s completely fine if there was a severed limb he’d be alright; now even when his skin is a sickly grey and his cheeks are crimson with delirium. “Let’s stop for today. The rifles will be here tomorrow.” Ignis doesn’t fight, which is dreadful, he must genuinely not feel well at all now. I linger for him outside the showers, right now I don’t even trust myself.


	2. A Sweltering Desire

The second occasion I’ve caught myself gawking at Ignis is the worst day of our lives. At least to this moment. The summers have been beating down, an unseasonably humid heat wave moving over the barricades of Insomnia. It's always been hot but ordinarily, the evenings cool and offshore winds carry in a cool breeze loaded with salt. Not now, but that’s fine. Sarcasm my friend. It’s too unbearable to achieve anything so we lounge in the rooftop terrace of his flat. Noctis is on a fishing trip with his father, Prompto tagging along and we have the day off.

“Scoot over.” Despite having a menagerie of chairs and loungers, the sole hammock is the prize. It's big enough for both of us, laying opposite, and Ignis will share. Despite what everybody assumes, that façade he puts on for the world all prim and proper. Under that, he is incredibly ordinary. Our Meat & Meet take out trash litter the rooftop, a cooler of cold beers buried in ice delivered by yours truly the only things to keep us company. Dressed down in shorts and a t-shirt, Ignis is relaxing. I move my legs over allowing him space at the end with a grin and a frosty beer.

First world issues are our issues now. It's awfully hot, the A/C doesn’t blow cold enough, but the crisp pop of a beer cools and just existing should have been sufficient. It’s not, I won’t grumble. I really won’t just because Ignis isn’t comfortable; it's still hot to him.

“Why don’t you take your shirt off? It’s only me and you, Iggy.” He stops moving, eyes drifting over the garden, from the trellises lined with climbing roses down to the door at the distant side of the roof. Just glancing at the door, I feel I have blisters forming. The way Ignis bites the side of his bottom lip, hesitant and unsure, the temperature is then moving up spiking when he agrees and gently removes his  shirt. Does he realize just what he does to me?

He doesn’t know he’s putting on a show; I know Ignis enough to recognize he just wishes to be comfortable in this stifling heat not leered at by someone he believes a friend. As a man, it’s hard for me to stop.

I like women; love their delicate bodies and curves you crave to hug, the way they smell good to the way they take their time to get ready for a date. But Ignis. Whoa, there is something about how he places just as much effort, even in cargo shorts and some old t-shirt that stretches crossed his chest because it’s a size too small, but he nevertheless finds it comfortable. He’s put more women to shame than they have him.

As a friend, I feel guilty as heat courses through my stomach knotting it as he ultimately gets the shirt off and settling back in the hammock, the cool beer sitting in his hands. Despite training with him four times a week, I hadn’t taken into consideration how thoroughly he has filled out. I’m the man who prefers women, but Ignis- he’s the exception. I’m a man, one that has desires and wants. Right now I wish to lean over and sweep a thumb over the smooth pink of his breast, pinch till his nipples peak and kiss the soreness away.

Ignis says something and I agree, to perplexed and absorbed in my truth to focus on what he is suggesting. Whatever it is, he doesn’t squirm as often as he was, easing into the heat bringing the beer to his lips now and then. Just enjoying the time off.

Time flies past, plundered to furtive glances and small talk, a barbeque for two and an empty beer cooler. “We should do this again.” The summer air chills, crisp and cooled by the breeze the shirt goes back on, a shame shirtless is an appropriate look for him. Somewhere Bahamut shines his good fortune on me, that must be the sole reason that as that shirt is dragged down, erect nipples peek out.

I walk him to his door, wishing him good night even though we will see each other in just a few hours for another hectic week. Between now and then the issue that swells as I shuffle into my room will have to be dealt with by Miss. Leftie tonight. 


	3. Gone With the Shadows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to add titles to the chapters. Not something I normally do. But, I did it?

The third time, I’ve gotten caught.

“Hey, I made extra copies of the pictures.” Prompto Argentum smiles down at me, one hand holding out a large manila envelope, the other holding onto his camera kit. A flutter of déjà vu washes over me, it seems to be familiar, more times than I can want to think of but this has taken place more occasions than I would usually want. Unlike most of those occasions, Princess isn’t in the background huffing and heaving, wailing at Prompto to hustle. Like Noctis has elsewhere to reach that won’t be there five seconds later than normal. “Could you tell me what you think of them. You know how Noct is.”  

Showering praises over everything Prompto creates. Even stick figure napkin doodles.

So even though Noctis isn’t there to hover like a black gloom, Prompto’s phone rings again and again. The blond winces, taking out his phone from his bag and murmurs. Noctis isn’t like the traditional prince, but he is thoroughly spoilt. “Hey, Thanks.” It’s strange for Prompto to seek my point of view, I can’t help but smile waving at him as he trots down the walkway back towards the pavement.

Turning the envelope over in my hands, I’m confident it's a cutesy photoshoot, like the one he gave to Iris for her birthday that had my sister, him and Noct posing in front of bubblegum pink backdrops and flower gardens overflowing with various costume changes that it's still glowing in her mind like the height of birthday parties. I drop it off on my desk for later as Iris’ yells of ‘supper time’ rose a roar from my gut.

I’m sure Iris has been taking cooking lessons at school. The Loco Moco she grills up is perfectly juicy and crispy. “I’m going out tonight.” She beams, shoving the sole plate towards me. “I already talked to Dad, he’s fine with it.”

“Where are you going?” I can’t push the frown away and a creeping suspicion that persists in all older brothers. The emerging of protective instinct and the desire to helicopter parent. With Dad gone most of the time, it’s me and Iris, it's purely logical but she’s fifteen now, mature enough to spend the night at her friend’s homes and go out in groups.

“Lesa’s house. We are going to the movies, don’t worry Gladdy her mothers are picking me up.” The words pour forth, waning away as the doorbell rings. “Don’t worry I’ll call you!” The door snaps shut, leaving me alone in a home too grand for two, a stifling void for one. It’s not the first time, it won’t be the last. With Dad’s duty, he is gone often and despite being Iris’ older brother, I’m more of a father to her than our own old man. Now, as she enters her second year of middle school, Iris has more friends than I ever did ever will have. 

The plate slides into the drain rack; the lights flickering off as I trudge upstairs. Beyond my constant Shield training and Crowngaurds duties, surrogate parental figure attending University is just another layer to what they have demanded. I’m not the only one, Ignis is effectively on his path to his Graduate degree, Prompto is in his first year while Noctis takes a gap year to further associate himself with his eventual post. Here I am five years in and still haven’t achieved my bachelors.

And I have a five-page paper due tomorrow. I don’t understand how Ignis even takes time to breathe, sleep, eat with how active he is. It’s a phenomenon he makes it to training. His commitment, the way he’s picked up a spear like its second nature. Over the years he’s taken up other things, beyond training and cooking. Teaching Prompto to swim, even though Noctis still sinks like a rock, and coupled with gymnastic has shaped Ignis into- I need to focus.

Pulling out my chair I slump before my desk glancing to the mountain of Engineering textbooks and the laptop buried under a weeks’ worth of loose notes, the papers crinkled from repetitive thumbing and highlighting, sticky flags denoting important parts by topics. Moreover sits the envelope Prompto had given me hours ago. I pick it up, curiosity burning. I wonder what type of pictures they are if it’s like any of the things Prompto normally does its natural scenes and modelesque shoots of Noctis that require my consent for any classwork.

It can wait. It lands on my bed with merely the air puffing from under it. I have this paper that demands my attention. It drones on and on; the worlds blurring and after what feels like forever but turns out to be an hour; I give up for a few. From the bed, Prompto’s envelope calls, its dull hue begging for me to come and see what it offers. Begrudgingly, the guilt of extended procrastination tramped down by my overwhelming interest.

It obliterates the resolution that has been whipped and polished as the arms of the seal free the lip of the envelope. There is a stack of pictures inside, the top a glossy high-quality finish, what’s even more compelling is the fact I can vaguely make out Ignis’s face in the golden hue cast through the paper. 

Huh? I slip them out. I consider the first image as I look it over. I recognize the area, the school locker rooms outside the pool. Behind Ignis the high windows allow the brilliant afternoon sunlight to filter in, but beyond the sublime background that bathes Ignis is some divine light, the way he stands, relaxed, his shirt is half unbuttoned and his trousers already open. Well okay, I admit this is nice. It’s not the first time I’ve thought of Ignis in that locker room. Wondering what he looks like as he changes from his school wear to his trunks then back.

Some days I wish I was a fly so I could see with hundreds of microscopic eyes the water passing over slightly tanning skin. The next picture makes me need to swallow my tongue. The concept doesn’t shift but now he’s glancing at the camera, a modest grin on his lips and the way his eyes bore into me, it’s like I’m there and I can hear him saying my name.

“Do you like what you see?”

I gulp the heavy lump that’s formed in my throat and stumble to the next, then the next till he’s standing in a pair of the Academy of Insomnia barely there black, gold and white trunks, a grip on his abdomen, fingers barely pushing under the fabric over a trimmed happy trail. It’s a sight blessed by the Astrals. I can feel the air being sucked out of my lungs and I’m suffocating in the intense gaze and parted lips. The rest of the pictures lay spread out of my bed as if I was planning a sacrifice to my Lord and Master Ignis Scientia. This one follows the others.

The last picture brings me to my knees, my hand wandering into the space between skin and fabric. I never expected I’d see Ignis more than the hurried glances in the showers after training and in my wildest dreams naked. Seeing him like this with the blue waters of the pool giving his skin a cool haze does nothing to temper these passions I’ve had for the last few years.

It only encourages the fire that blazes. This time, he laughs his body half turned towards the chlorinated pool the other half to the photographer. Bare as a babe, Ignis is the apotheosis of precision. Despite him being the bodily focus of these images or my inclinations to be with him. There is more to Ignis than a gorgeous face and a body that pleads to be shown off. Ignis is sharp, caring, he’s fun to be around. 

This is my ruin; I recognize it’s not appropriate. He’s my buddy, my colleague. I want him, to be near him eternally, inside, around. That coyly smiling face sends me spilling over the edge with a cry of his name on my lips, a spiced wine, hand bunching on the blankets as my body convulses with the waning power of orgasm.

It's not until much later after I’ve tidied up, tucked away the pictures and completed the paper that my phone buzzes. Rubbing a towel over my hair I pick up the mobile, murmur as Prompto’s name lights up the screen in front of a fuzzy picture of the blonde.

“So, thoughts?” He snorts, freely and sunny like this wasn’t something he himself proposed. I can’t mention much, what answer would you tell to lewd pictures of a friend?

“They look good.”

“Just good?” A grunt, “it took a lot of assuring to get Ignis to do this! I put in hard work. But good.” I can practically see his smirking face, the way his eyes tighten, “your welcome. I had to lie to take these, so assume its a favor.”

“A favor?”

“I may need to call you on it someday. So, we good?”

“Yeah, we’re good.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ignis is best lewd boi. For this chapter, I had another plan, but that can be number 4 now. I'm not feeling to into describing Gladdy masturbating but um, maybe the lewdness will be in the next chapter. Yeah. So this is supposed to be a 4+1 fic if no one got that. So Instead of having all five with Gladio telling us. I plan to do a 4 Gladio focused chapters then 1 focuses on his Master and Lord, Ignis.


	4. When Dreams Come True

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah!

The day before Iggy’s twenty birthday, the King presents him a car and a party. Although his parents are still alive, he has been Regis’ ward since the age of six, an older brother to Noctis, a younger to Regis’ other ward and steward, Nyx Ulric. Which is a regal name now that I reflect about it. Like some dashing prince in some fairy tale fantasy, and boy does his looks help.

But, uh, Ha-ha, I do to have anything for Nyx like I do Ignis but that hasn’t stopped Lady Lunafreya from undressing the eldest of Regis’s ‘sons’ on state visits. It should be my job to tell her it’s improper, but she’s a Snow White and at least that Prince has Charm.

Noctis could take a few pointers, from Prompto’s sighs as he moved near the champagne and Noctis continues to blindly prattle on about this great fishing spot they should go to next weekend, he’s blind, ignorant or just playing dumb hoping Prompto will make the first move. Plus, it’s not like we haven’t already discussed moving him from the Citadel to a personal residence. Prompto shoots me a tight-lipped grimace of boredom. Unlike the party Nyx threw for his twenty-first, Ignis’s has been carefully orchestrated but not to the extent Noctis’s will be in the next few years. It’s just a small ceremony, friends, and both halves of Ignis’s family. He’s got a good life within the Crown family.

The party winds down, his parents leave with his Uncle. Even though he visits regularly, Lady Scientia cries into her son's shoulders, cries on Regis’s laments her son isn’t eating enough, cries more, lingers beaming with pride then cries as she leaves her husband promising the next family affair to keep her far from the towering golden glasses. It’s with more reservation everyone else trickles out, His Majesty bids the four of us good night.

“Do what I wouldn’t kid.” Nyx smirks, ruffling Ignis’s hair and for a moment our eyes meet. Nyx’s cool grey to my warm honey. Ignis wanders away handing the care of Noctis and Prompto to one of the many Crownsgaurd while Nyx shares a look with me.

“I expect you to treat him right.”

I can fringe confusion, which would be futile. Nyx has caught me more than enough times in recent weeks admiring Ignis’ techniques, the way his fingers wrap around the shaft of a spear, the slight jerk as he summons daggers forth from the ether. The way he goes upstairs and I’m sure he has discovered my prayers too, for just a moment, be a pair of pants even if Ignis doesn’t put me on, I’d gladly hang in his wardrobe and just wait. So, I just act naive. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” So smooth.

Nyx smiles, Shiva's frosty nips, no wonder Lunafreya trembles when he's nearby. Even though Nyx is Nyx and not Ignis, that knowing smile they all share pierces the soul. “You're hard.”

My head drops, heat spreading as I look down to make sure that I'm not, a natural reflex like checking to ensure your zipper isn’t down or toilet paper isn’t stuck to. The bottom of your shoe. Nyx chortles then snort tears beading in his eyes. “Oh man, you should see your face. Eh, hmm.” He wipes the corner of his eyes as he hums. Dick. “but seriously. I'll make every training session Ifrit’s anus if you hurt him. Got it, lover boy?”

My mind slows, how does one respond to that? Now I know how all the guys that have tried to date Iris feel. Ah, karma you sweet bitch. “Yeah.” Nyx glances to the side Ignis rejoining us.

“Better get Sleeping Beauty and Cinderella home before the enchantment wears off. You guys have an enjoyable time. I hope I don’t see you at work tomorrow, Gladio make sure he gets home.” The punch to my shoulder is a warning backed with a thrill of electricity. To my side, he hugs Ignis welcoming him to adulthood.

“Ahh Nyx!” Ignis's arduous work, the minutes spent wrangling Noctis into his car seat fly out the window as he climbs out said window and over to Nyx. “Look at this face Prom. He’s, he’s the driver. He buys me things.” The tipsy whines of the Prince and his friend die off as Nyx drives off with a jaunty wave. In the ensuing silence, Ignis and I stand at the middle of the parking garage staring into the dark void of night.

“Want to get a cup of coffee?”

It's rather late for coffee, but anytime spent alone with Ignis is perfect. This is the part of my story I need to stop at and realize how stupid I was. See, Ignis happened to get a nice SUV. An upgrade from the Crown vehicle he had been driving for years. A much-needed upgrade. Noctis as much as he hates training loves sports. He played baseball in Highschool, so Ignis would chauffeur him to games, then with Prompto he would help him at times with photoshoots. Not to mention hauling important documents, groceries, and everything under the sun. The few times we went camping. So unlike Nyx who has a sports bike or my own Insomnia muscle car, Ignis chose the most sensible vehicle. With gold down seats.

Seats that now I remember being down. At the time I didn’t think too much about it. And as we drove through the empty streets of Insomnia, passing café after café, donut shops, fast food restaurants every eating establishment I didn’t question Ignis. He can smell coffee from ten miles away and give you the brand.

I may have dozed off a bit.

“Gladio,” sometimes waking is like being submerged in a pool. At first, the sounds are dull, hard to decipher but as my conscious mind surfaces, they grow sharper. Waking to Ignis's voice is pleasurable, I'd love to do it every day. Fuzzy-headed I turn towards him and smile, the darkness of night dotted with city lights. “can I ask you something?”

If this was normal, if Ignis was a girl red flags would raise Klingons blare, an SOS to push adrenaline and call out the flight response. But this is Ignis the guy who had dedicated years to the Crown, who has set boundaries. The guy who spends more time than he could ever believe occupying my thoughts. “Sure, anything.”

Ignis smiles without big displays. When he happy the edges of his eyes crinkle, his expression softens and his eyes, it's breathtaking the way his eyes get just a bit brighter. “Kiss me?”

It was the last vestiges of sleep, my mind still wading through muddled thoughts lingering on that sweet road to dreamland. I hesitated too long, I seem to have done that a lot this night. Or the fact I can’t form words because he just asked me to do something, I have dreamt of for five years, so I nod, imagining myself bobbing my head like Noctis does when Prompto begs to have the last turn before bed.  

The belts click, retracting with a whoosh. The first peck is soft, lips barely grazing over each other, then second Ignis brushed against my nose planting a gently whisper near the corner. Another more direct then another as his tongue laps at mine. I’m awake now but it still the world is hazy, I barely register his hand on my neck, fingers rushing to tangle in the short length of my hair. Crownsgaurd standards and all that tugged back sharply. My mouth drops open with. A whine, he is there plundering my soul, rooting into its depths. As quickly as Ignis has taken my heart, my soul is his now as well, those green eyes searching as he runs his tongue over his lips as if savoring one of his perfectly made meals.

“Get in the back.” The heated command chills me, compliance is my forte. Who am I to complain about this wild ride that I have dreamt of, that fills my nights with steaming dreams of Ignis looking down at me as he rides into the sunset?

Words cease to exist as I fall back onto the flat surface of Ignis' trunk. The heavy scent of new car will soon be replaced by the all-consuming fragrance of sex, sweat, and debauchery. The back of the seats, normally rough, have been covered in a heavy blanket. “Is this fine?” A nod is all I can muster, my eyes trailing every like that forms in his shirt as he shrugs his jacket off, then his shirt where he stops and stares at me. “are you going to get undressed?”

My heart stops then rushes back, beating in leaps and bounds. Of course, of course, of course. Oh yes yes yes, yes thank you patron deity of everything. Ignis doesn’t take the time to fold his shirt or halve his jacket. The front seat is filled with haphazardly tossed clothing, shoes thinking against the windshield followed by a streamer of black socks. Around us, the air becomes humid or breathing coming in rapid gasp a chill settling over our skin only to evaporate in the rising heat. I never thought I'd find myself rutting against another man, in the future I don’t I also don’t foresee myself doing this with a woman. Only Ignis, only his hands scorching my skin and leaving his Mark’s, painful as they may be, on me. Worth each kiss and piercing nip, Ignis consumes me.

“Ignis?”

“Hmm?” He smirks pulling away, dragging an abused nipple as he lifts to look at me giving his undivided attention. The pain splinters out and down, cock bouncing as he let’s go only to bring a hand up to idle rub at it. “Yes?”

Ignis's voice is already a sexual topping, irresistible in the way he looks at me now. Under his gaze, I bend, rolling my hips upward. For a moment I'm not me just a spectator on the sidelines. Like a couch sports fan I try to direct the play. “ask to fuck him, go for home, get a goal! Don't fumble the ball!” The next he is looking down at me telling me to beg. “Please, can we fuck?”

Ignis isn’t surprised, lips curling, pleased. “I had that in mind.” He returns to lavishing my chest with nips leaving bite Mark’s that will bruise, fingers pinching and tugging on swelling peaks. To the side his hand rummages through one of the compartments only to drop a bottle- nit a dainty travel pack or try me tube- a large ‘family sized' bottle of lube and a box of condoms beside us. Well now.

“Gladio,” Ig is gripping my chin, searching for any hesitation. There's none here buddy. “I hope you understand; I am going to fuck you.”

“Yes.” I back it up with a smile, one he returns dipping down to cover my mouth with his.

Pulling back he hums, “If it hurts let me know.”

Alright, I nod.

Alright.

Wait…

“What do you me-" the word dies off, a well-lubed finger slipping in, wet and firm. I grunt, clenching down, Ignis glares and huffs. “What are you doing?” I can’t stop my breath from catching as ye curls his fi get upward, warm pressure spreading. Although it feels odd, he continues, eyes darting over my face, then down and up again.

Ignis sighs, spreading his hand over, running down my sides pulling my leg up to caress it with tender strokes. “Relax. I won't hurt you.” He leans down to kiss me, getting my jaw instead.

“Well, this fucking hurt.”

As he pulls out, he pulls away, he kissed the side of my knee. I can feel him there, stroking, testing his gaze never leaving mine. “Do you trust me?” I glare at the back window, hands gripping the blanket underneath as an anchor. The fog has lifted, this wasn’t how I imagined my first time with Ignis. “Gladio?”

“Yes" I snap, hoping he'll pull back. No, Ignis does the opposite, sinking down as he sinks two fingers in. His free hand comes up, lifting my leg over his shoulder as his free hand splays on my stomach. Gangly bean pole fucker. Despite the pain and the fact this is not going down the path I want, I'm hard l, which delights Ignis. As he takes my cock in his hand, he lifts a brow and swallows, my lungs stop working.

The pain fades as Ignis's head bobs taking me down, down into a velvet heat, down a road I'll never stray from. I no longer think of his fingers pressing up into warming tissue, how it goes from two to three then three to four if he continues licking and sucking and moaning, humming as he stops waiting for me to look at him. As I look up at the roof, I pull in a deep breath, pulse-pounding cock twitching. The moment our eyes meet, Ignis and his warmth, his searing touch retreat. “Turn around.”

He moves far enough away to allow me room to get on all fours. In the still night, a quietness floods this space. Anticipation lodges itself in my lungs I can hear the pump of the bottle, the slide of the condom box opening and the thud of a roll landing near my head. I panic for a moment, do I want this, can I do this? What if someone finds out, what if Noctis finds out? What if Iris finds out?

I want to run; his hand stops me. “Are you alright with this?”

I’ve never wanted anything as much in my life that Ignis. “Yeah.”

The initial burn is back. The stretch and feel of something where it’s not supposed to be, the relief of breaking free l, claiming the thing I desire most. I want Ig is, all of him now, tomorrow, next week. Forever. He touches my back, movements slight allowing time to adjust, then leans forward kissing the skin between my shoulders.

“You're beautiful,” I expect him to whisper, but he just continues to kiss and touch committing the muscles and lines to memory. There will be time to that later I'm sure.

“Fuck,” he pushes back as I am rocking down and away. His hands grip my hips tightly, Ignis hates not being in control, even though it’s hard to move I still manage too. Our rhythm is off, frustratingly so, till he shoves me down by my neck. “Gladio,” the way he growls my name, I can’t help but wiggle in retaliation he smacks my ass. 

The first time I had sex with a girl, it was amazing. Having sex with Ignis animalistic as he runs into me, his hands grab my shoulder, one drops to my hip then grips my arm to pull me back so he can go deeper. He’s rougher with each moan, each hitch of breath drives him deeper. Ignis is thick and well sized. Not so long that it feels like he's fucking my throat. We're rushed and frantic, the cusp of teenage hormones spilling into adulthood. “Cum in me.” I look at him over my shoulder, he stops face pained.

“Can I?”

“Please. " It’s hard to gauge what he's thinking now. He still looks like he's hurt, that something is wrong as he pulls out with a pop, but it’s not long till he slips a digit in eyes dropping to watch his fingers spread me open.

“Your ass,” he sucks in air, leaning down and kissing one side then the other, as he straightens, he drops the condom beside my head. I expect him to push in and fuck away but instead, he sighs, inhales deeply as if he’s running a marathon. “I'm going to fuck you till you won't be able to walk. Understand?”

If my soul hadn’t been sucked from my body before it would have pushed its way out. I moan and that’s enough compliance for Ignis. It’s definitely noticeable that he no longer has a condom on. It’s not as smooth, not that I can’t feel lube running down my thighs, a bit dryer. He’s harder, bigger and despite his attempt to calm himself the first raw push has me going over the edge, legs trembling as I coat the blanket below me in my own fluids. Ignis follows swiftly behind. The final rough thrust, the grip he has on my hair pulling me up while simultaneously pushing my lower back down gets him off. The twitching tightness and throbbing vein have christened his birthday present.

We never got coffee, not till the next morning as my phone wakes me as it vibrates crossed the nightstand. Picking it up I bring it to my ear, “‘Ello?”

“Oh, you're awake.” I roll my eyes drawing foreign blankets to my chin. Nyx’s cooing over the phone is not the first thing I want to hear in the morning. “So, did you give Igs his birthday present? He hung up on me.”

A few seconds pass as I debate, Nyx repeatedly saying ‘hello? Hey, you there?’ into the speaker. Yeah, it’s too early to deal with him. The door opens, Ignis stepping through in a pair of pajama bottoms and a bed tray. Nyx can wait. Setting phone to do not disturb I turn my attention to Ignis.

“Morning.”

“Good Morning, how do you feel?”

“Like shit, but good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me about homework: 500 words on market research something or the other. Kill me now.  
> Me about smut. Any smut: 5 pages of smexy! Alright, two hours. 
> 
> So...gah let me know what you think. Imma hide under a rock.  
> Also, practice safe sex. Gladdy is a total bottom, dat booty.


	5. Chapter 5

“Mr. Scientia,” I’m sure you’ve heard people talk about that moment, when their life flashes before their eyes. Typically it happens in life threatening situations, or on movies screens followed by a bright light in the dark room, popcorn puffing your cheeks. I never thought I would ever experience one, and if I did, not outside the palace gardens. Not involving Clarus Amicitia “We need to talk.”

  
From a distance, Clarus is an imposing man, his flat expression makes the dread that is lingering, that has welled into a lump on my throat even worse. No one pays attention as we walk past, through the courtyard, then the upper levels of the Citadel, past the Lords that make up on Council and Glaives alike. Nothing seems strange or off. They pass by smiling, greeting or just ignoring.

  
I’m going to my death.

  
Clarus's face betrays nothing. He stares down at me as he twist the door knob and pushes inward. “After you." His office is cluttered. At least to me, its neat but there is a book shelf bursting with various styles of text. Some modern, a few reports and a globe. I smile thinking of the bookshelf in Gladiolus’ apartment just as haphazardly stocked with books and knick knacks. “Sit.” The deep tremble causes me to flinch, that’s right.

Clarus.

  
Following his command, attempting and failing horribly to keep eye contact, I sit in the fine leather chair, the seat worn from frequent usage.

  
“Is there something I can help you with Lord Amicitia?” He turns away pulling a bottle of amber liquid and two tumblers from his desk. The stopper pops low, the smell of spiced scotch filling the immediate area followed quickly by the sloshing of fluid pouring into the glasses. I don’t dare speak again, I know Clarus has heard me.

  
One tumbler slides to me the other held in a strong grip. “Ignis, tell me about your business with my son.”

"We're friends.” I say, perhaps to quickly cause he raises one brow, the tumbler to his lips. “We're just friends. I swear My Lord. Nothing more.”

  
He doesn’t take a sip, just sets it down firmly, lips thinning and glares. “Gladiolus says differently.”  
I stiffen, tumbler sloshing as my arm jerks closer. Oh shit, I stare wide eyed at the man I hoped one day to call my father in law, even if it’s just common law. “He tells me that you, that you both are more than friends.” He leans forward, hands coming to join infront of him. Even under the heavy regalia he wears I can see the bulge of muscles finely honed into the necessary metal needed for his position. “So much so that he used the term ‘boy friends'.”

  
I stare dumbfounded at the Sheild before me, eyes growing wide. He only narrows his eyes more, lip curling into a sneer. “Lord Amicitia,” he holds his hand up and I fall silent.

  
“I expect you to be at the family dinners. They are on Fridays, at four.”

  
“What? I thought..” I turn my head down searching the ornate Persian rug for answers. What the fuck is going on? He was about to kill me!

  
“Ignis look at me.” The gentle way he looks at me, like I’ve fulfilled some distant unreachable dream for him squeezes me heart. “I'm glad its you.” I can only stare at him, heart beating rapidly as I absorb the fact he is accepting us.

  
He accepts Gladio for who he loves.

  
For being gay.

For being with me.

He's accepting me as his sons friend.

His _lover_.

  
“Why are you crying Ignis?ⁿ With trembling hands I set the tumbler back on the desk hands coming to cover my face. The words refuse to come out. My happiness at being welcomed not just by my family but Gladio’s as well. Really there are no words for this. I don’t hear the door as it opens, or heavy footfalls as they come close, only when Gladio ask, well loudly inquired just what his father did to put me into such a state.

  
“I invited him to dinner Friday.”

  
“Why is he crying then?” Gladio's hand rest on my shoulder, gripping tightly to the pressed blazer, “did you do the scary face again?”

  
“What do you mean again?”

  
“Every time you want to intimidate someone you make this face.” From behind my hands I look up at Gladio, it’s a perfect mirror image of the flat expression Clarus had. They go on bickering over the eldest Amicitia habitually intimidation of potential love interest. And the girl from the coffee shop. As they fight, the mood lightens. I first smile, then laugh as Clarus recites his own tale of how Gladip came out.

  
The time passes quickly, Clarus only kicking us out when his phone rings, he groans and cites he has a meeting to attend. He walks us out, then frowns. “I owe Cor thousand yen.” Its his only lament, if only we had gotten together sooner rather than later.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Later, Clarus uses his scary face on a boy Iris tutors. The boy transferred to a new school. 
> 
> Iris uses it on a random dignitary who was getting to friendly. Her's is far scarier.  
> ♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧  
> So, this didn't end how I wanted it to. Like Ignis was supposed to reflect on all the times he caught Gladdy checkin him out and his own obsession with Gladio. But having him confronted by either Iris or Clarus was so much more satisfying.


End file.
